


Show

by butyoumight



Category: Green Day
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Toys, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-10
Updated: 2006-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/pseuds/butyoumight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Billie's voice was low, his smile dark as he looked up at his prey, shifting slightly on the comforter as if frightened.</i></p><p><i>"You're going to come for me."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Show

**Author's Note:**

> One of the first depraved PWP's I ever wrote.

He crouched at the foot of the bed, feeling very much like a predator on the hunt. Some hunt, confined wholly to the bedroom, in fact almost exclusively to the bed.

Billie's voice was low, his smile dark as he looked up at his prey, shifting slightly on the comforter as if frightened.

"You're going to come for me." Billie reached down to the floor, grabbing what he'd set beneath the bed earlier, lifting it almost reverently. He twirled the stick between his fingers for a moment before tossing it. His devilish grin widened at the sound it made as it landed on Tré's bare chest, clinking quietly against the steel ring through his nipple. "And you're going to use that."

Tré made a quiet noise, something like confusion, as he picked up the drumstick carefully, looking it over. He took a shaky breath, looking down over his own bare body to the smaller man on the floor, still crouched as if to pounce.

It wasn't as if Billie Joe hadn't ever brought this sort of... what might be considered _play_ , into the bedroom before. No, the tiny frontman liked to watch a show as much as he liked to give one. This was, however, the first time he'd asked the drummer to use anything more than his own two hands.

Tré twirled the drumstick. It wasn't his fingers, no, but it was, at least, a bit... well, _thinner_ than... most things that he had been so involved with.

Billie stood suddenly, stepping backwards to perch instead on the bureau, setting him above Tré shivering slightly on the bed. Billie Joe liked to have the best seats for his self-designed shows, and he preferred to see his orchestrations spread out beneath him.

Tré sighed, lowering the stick once more to his chest and trailing it downwards. Billie was ready now, waiting, and Tré knew that if he didn't oblige him, the smaller man wouldn't hesitate to, not only leave, but let him alone for a week or more. Billie didn't like being denied his plots.

Billie Joe watched, the dark smile playing at his lips solid. He lowered his own hand slowly, hovering over his own crotch, waiting. Tré looked up at Billie once more, biting his lip in trepidation. He moved quickly, a part of him wanting this over with _now_. Grasping at his erection with his left hand, his right shifted grip on the drumstick. Knees bent, hips lifted from the bed, he pushed the blunt end of the stick into himself slowly, teeth gritting at the feeling that he knew should probably be pain, but was much more pleasurable.

Tré's eyes fluttered shut as he heard Billie make a quiet noise of passion, his hand moving properly, snaking into his pants to grip and stroke at himself.

Tré's back flexed and locked, his body almost contorting into a bowed arch as he very slowly began thrusting with the stick, passing his thumb once over the head of his cock before he moved into a slow stroking rhythm. Despite it all, the entire thing was extremely hot, and he found himself growing towards climax extremely swiftly.

Billie, still perched on the top of the dresser, arched back himself, upper back and shoulders pressing against the wall, hips thrusting up against his own hand. His head hung forward, he peered through the wavy fringe of his hair, squinting at Tré as his show continued. He moaned, long and loud, stroking himself harder.

Tré forced his eyes open, peering up once more at his audience. The sight of Billie, thrusting and wailing, took Tré right over the edge, and he threw his head back with a scream as ecstasy ran him through.

The pair moaned in tandem, each shouting the others' names, the sounds of matched climax filling the room, echoing and bouncing together, rising to fever pitch.

Tré's voice broke as his back finally relaxed. He managed to pull the drumstick from himself and toss it weakly away before he fell completely slack, shivering slightly as his body went limp, chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath. Billie similarly relaxed back against the wall, gulping and taking several purposeful breaths. The shivering sounds of passion finally echoed into near silence, replaced with quiet breathing.

There was a low creak as Billie crawled off of his perch atop the dresser, creeping towards the bed, his predatory side appeased. Now, as was his nature, he wanted a long cuddle and a nap.

He climbed into bed next to his spent drummer, fingertips crawling as he wrapped his arms around Tré's waist, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"That was fuckin' hot, Tré."

Tré sighed shakily, rolling onto his side to hug Billie gently. He pressed his lips into Billie's mussed and slightly sweat-damp hair.

"Next time, _you're_ putting on the show."

Billie laughed, snuffling against Tré's neck before he pulled back to meet his eyes, that predatory sparkle glinting for just a moment. "We'll see about that."


End file.
